


It’s not your fault

by Stareena



Series: Tumblr prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, I APOLOGIZE, Tumblr Prompt, Unbeta'd, craptastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stareena/pseuds/Stareena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could you do a Dean/reader where after he’s turned back into a human, he finds reader in his room, hurt from his hand, and fluff follows? Maybe smut??</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s not your fault

Panting, Dean looked up gingerly from the floor. Sam was hunched over Dean, syringe in hand while Castiel stood by his feet, giving his angelic equivalent of a bitchface. Thirsty and sore, Dean looked around as he sat up. The sounds were lessened, as were the smells. Sam saved him again.

“Dean?” Sam asked, unsure.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Dean patted his brother’s shoulder.

Holding out a hand to him, Castiel helped Dean to his feet.

“You might be but Y/N isn’t.” Castiel grumbled.

Blinking, Dean looked at both men before rushing towards Y/N’s room. She wasn’t there. Panicked, Dean began running through the Bunker looking for her. Opening door after door in a flurry of fear. It was opening his own door that Dean stopped, finding her, in his bed. Everything about this was wrong. Walking up to her form, Dean felt tears in his eyes. Y/N was the one he was supposed to have protected. It was her boyfriend that was kidnapping people and turning them into vampires, Hell, he turned Dean, didn’t he? She had been scared and when Dean, Sam and Castiel came sniffing around, she ran to them, afraid of her boyfriend and willing to tell them all that she knew (albeit it was very little). She had been helpfully and scared and Dean…

Kneeling next to her body, limbs all akimbo, Dean brushed her hair out of her face. She was remarkably beautiful. He thought so the first moment he saw her at the coffee shop. After hearing what she had to say, he felt compelled to protect her and bring the bastard down. Perhaps that was why he sought her out after he was changed.

The best laid plans of mice and men…

“Cas,” Dean croaked, his throat still dry, at least that was what he would say if asked. Had nothing to do with the pain of guilt he was feeling over having hurt this innocent. “Cas!”

Nothing happened.

“CAS!”

“He left, Dean. We should take her home.” Sam prodded gently.

Staring at her face, Dean’s eyes watered. Shaking his head he remained motionless while he spoke.

“Not leaving her like this. Not after… what I did to her.”

“Dean…”

“No, Sammy!” Dean turned and spoke over his shoulder. Silence filled the space of the small room. Reaching out slowly, Dean took her hand and held it. “I need to know she’ll be okay first.”

“What do you need?”

“First aid kit. I want to change her bandages when she wakes.”

Without a word, Sam withdrew from the room looking for the supplies Dean requested. In the meantime, Dean pulled up a chair and sat near the bed, holding her hand, running his thumb over her chipped nail polish. It was just three nights ago that this polish had been fresh. Slowly his eyes roamed up his own forearm. Scratches marred he skin where she fought back. Flakes of that polish were stuck in wounds, glued in place by blood.

Dropping her hand Dean sat back and scrubbed his face with a hand. Her arm was covered in bruises, the size and shape of his hand. A bruise purpling her eye and a bite on her throat.

Dean rested his face in his hand. Had it not been for Cas knocking him out just as he bit her, he could have killed her and he would have forever have been a monster.

He needed to thank Cas.

He needed to make amends to Y/N.

Sitting, watching Y/N sleep, Sam had come in and left the kit as well as several bottles of water and sandwhiches. Dean drank a bottle and eventually hunger got the best of him.

It was hours before Y/N opened her eyes.

Dean looked up hearing whining and found Y/N looking at him and shuddering. As if he didn’t feel shitty already.

“Hey… it’s me. I’m back. I’m not… that, anymore.” Dean held up his hands.

Y/N just stared like a frightened animal.

“Y/N…” Dean pressed, moving forward.

Y/N jerked back as if slapped. Dean flinched. Standing up slowly, he looked at her with a pained expression.

“I’ll…. send Sam in to change your bandages.”

Still, she said nothing.

Turning, Dean walked out quickly. Guilt filling him as he talked with Sam. Overwhelming him as he walked into the guest room she had been using. And it was to such a breaking point that he found himself crying himself to sleep.

***

“Dean!” Sam shook his brother, the older hunter jerking awake. “She’s asking for you.” Turning, Sam walked out.

Taking a few minutes to compose himself, Dean used the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Looking up in the mirror he no longer recognized his own visage. Was he a hunter? A vampire? A demon? A Shapeshifter? All he saw was a monster. At least most of those other things were supernatural. He had no excuse. Yes, shitty things happened to him in his life but he brought a lot of that upon himself.

Ducking his eyes, Dean dried his face before walking back to his room, knocking. A soft voice bid him to enter.

Walking in, feeling unusually timid, he spotted Y/N sitting up on the bed, legs crossed and wearing one of his tee shirts and a pair of boxers.

If it wasn’t for the bruises and the look of terror on her face, Dean would be aroused.

“Y/N.” Dean stood in the doorway, afraid to move forward.

Y/N motioned for him to walk closer. Hesitantly he walked towards her. Unsure what she was thinking behind those huge eyes of hers. She could cry or rip his throat out, all which would be acceptable by his mind.

“Dean, sit.” Her soft voice commanded.

He complied.

“Y/N…”

“I know, Dean. Sam… Sam told me everything.” She sat there looking at him, her eyes running over his body, inspecting him, it seemed. It was horribly uncomfortable but it was the least he could do.

Glancing back up at her he noticed the bandage on her neck seeping through. Without thinking he reached forward towards it to check the wound. Jumping back, batting his hand away, eyes wide and breathing hard, Y/N pressed herself against the headboard.

As she started throwing herself back, Dean jumped up and away.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried out, hands up in front of him.

Staring at him, Y/N watched him with big eyes as if she was waiting for something bad to happen.

“I know I hurt you. There is no excuse for that. And I really am sorry. I… I was not myself. But… still, it happened and I’m not belittling your pain. But know… I, I really am sorry.” Dean lowered his hands and backed up towards the door.

“Wait!” Y/N cried out, freezing Dean to the spot. “Marcus used to hit me, would threaten me, fed off me. This isn’t just you.” She looked up at him, “I… I’m still very nervous about things. And… it’s not... your entire fault. But you didn’t help.”

Dean’s face fell, the guilt eating away at him.

“It’s not your fault.”

Looking up, Dean was certain he misheard that.

“It’s not your fault Dean.” Her face was hopeful, compassionate.

“Y/N I hurt you, you … you can’t excuse that.”

“It’s not your fault Dean. I know that had you not… been changed… then you wouldn’t have hurt me.” Looking down, Y/N relaxed and sat back on the bed, hands folded on her lap. “I… I forgive you.” She looked back up giving a small smile.

The guilt ebbed and morphed into anger. How could she be so forgiving? Had she forgiven Marcus like this?

“I don’t.” Dean stormed out of the room and down to the kitchen.

Castiel sat at the table, hands folded in his lap watching Sam, who was oblivious, eating pancakes and sausage.

Looking at the both of them, Dean’s hunger abated and he turned to leave.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel said calmly.

“Why didn’t you heal her already? She’s in pain. She’s suffering.” Dean narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

“She asked me not to,” Castiel replied casually. “She felt she didn’t deserve healing.”

Dean huffed.

“What’s wrong?” Sam sat back.

“She forgave me.” Dean crossed his arms across his chest.

The room was quiet.

Dean looked from Castiel to Sam, waiting for them to weigh in. To yell and exclaim that the girl was a moron forgiving Dean. That he was right in his anger.

It never came.

“And?” Sam leaned forward picking up his coffee.

“And?” Dean leaned forward, “She _forgave_ me, Sammy. What’s wrong with her?”

“Bad taste in men?” Sam asked sipping his coffee, “Maybe she’s too kind.” Sam shrugged returning to his breakfast.

“How can you be so damn nonchalant about this?”

“Because Dean, this is not my problem, this is not A problem. She forgave you, excellent. Why are you beating yourself up over this?”

“Because I don’t deserve forgiveness!” Dean yelled.

Castiel’s eyes darted from Dean to Sam, meeting the other man’s look.

“Dean?”

All three men turned towards the doorway, seeing Y/N standing there, dressed.

“Dean, I… realized that I’m making you uncomfortable, so… I’m going to leave. You guys saved me, saved my life. I… I don’t need to overstay my welcome.”

“You don’t need to leave, Y/N, you’re welcome to stay with us while you get back on your feet.” Sam turned the puppy dog eyes on her.

“Y/N… at least let me heal you before you leave.” Castiel stood up.

“Thanks. I’m good.” Y/N smiled softly. Looking back at Dean, she nodded and picked up her backpack and left. Leaving the kitchen in stunned silence. Castiel looked over at Sam, then to Dean and squinted. Sam seemed lost. Dean stood arms crossed and faced scowling. Dropping his arms, Dean ran after Y/N, catching her just as she was walking up the stairs towards the front door. Hearing the noise, Y/N turned. Without hesitation, Dean pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. All teeth and tongue. There was no fight for dominance, it was as if Dean was trying to show her how sorry he was, how much he wanted her forgiveness but knew he was not worthy of it. It was rough and desperate.

When air became needed, Dean rested his forehead against hers.

“Stay.” He asked, “Please.”

“Okay.” She whispered.

Taking her bag from her, Dean led her from the stairs and back into the bunker. Walking her through various rooms to the room he and Sam had turned into a living room. Setting her backpack down he sat pulling her with him. Crawling to be closer to him, he wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

The silence stretched long and palpable. Beyond comfortable silence and past uncomfortable. It was as if this moment of the two of them entwined was something that they were both clinging to for safety. For sanity. And they were both afraid to spoil the moment with words or further action. Giving up the need to talk, Dean closed his eyes and let sleep consume him.

***

Voices floated into his mind, disturbing the respite from self-hate and doubt. Voices that were… giggling? Opening one eye then the other, he caught Sam and Y/N looking at him before turning away quickly. Behind them Castiel stood, with a grin on his face.

“Morning.” Dean sat up and rubbed his face. There was something that came off on his hands. Looking down was a mess or black, red and blue. “The fuck?”

Sam and Y/N started laughing out loud, Castiel walked over and sat in one of the chairs nearby, his grin spreading. Looking over at Y/N he frowned.

“What is this?”

“Makeup, dumbass.” She laughed, “You fell asleep on me.”

“I hate you so much.” Dean pushed her gently as he stood up and walked towards a bathroom.

Y/N giggle while the men chuckled quietly. The day followed much like that. Gently teasing and watching movies. Sometimes Castiel would stick around, Sam would leave and catalogue things that he had been finding around the bunker. The only constant was Dean and Y/N sitting together, watching the TV, laughing and snuggling together. It felt natural, relaxed, effortless.

Making a big deal of it, Dean made dinner, serving it to her on a tray in front of the TV because they were still marathoning Dr. Sexy.

Driver in the Impala. Late morning snuggling. Brunch. Netflix. Long caresses and looks.

Four days went by before Y/N confronted Dean about things.

“Dean, hey…”

“Hey Y/N,” Dean stroked her face. “How are you beautiful?”

“I….” Y/N stammered, “I’m good…. Look, Dean… what… what’s going on? Why all the pomp and circumstance? You don’t have anything to prove to me.”

“I… what? Nah…” Dean was clearly caught off guard and growing nervous.

“Dean…”

“What?” He ran his hand through his hair, “I, well…”

“Dean.” Y/N walked closer to him, “Please…”

“I… I feel guilty. I hate this, it’s eating me up.”

Y/N blinked up him, unsure what he meant.

“I… I hate what I did to you, how I made you hurt! It haunts me, I keep seeing your face… like that… and…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Y/N cupped his face, “It’s okay. It wasn’t really you. I know that.”

Dean huffed.

“Hey! I mean it tough guy; you were not yourself. Get over it and lock it up Winchester.”

Straightening instinctively Dean blinked at Y/N before his face melted into a soft shy smile.

“How are you so amazing?” Dean asked running his hand through Y/N’s hair.

“Oh Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. Baby, you’ve not seen anything yet.” She winked.

Eyes going wide, Dean stooped to pick her up over his shoulder and started walking towards his bedroom, with Y/N giggling all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me writing prompts or follow me on: tumblr.stareena.com


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